


Abstract Art, Profane Mugs, and a Little Monster

by rarepairsinmycup



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, First Day of School, M/M, Modern Era, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Single Parents, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairsinmycup/pseuds/rarepairsinmycup
Summary: Kenpachi Zaraki, a single father whose child's abstract artwork and hyperactive behaviors have managed to get her removed from five preschools.Kenpachi believes this one will be the perfect fit. Except for her teacher, Hanataro is accidentally and unwittingly ruining his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

His diplomas are fake. His fancy diplomas in their even fancied frames are fakes. Kenpachi Zaraki alternates between scowling at those maybe-fake-diplomas and returning to his staredown with the preschool director, who he suspects might be a literal kid. 

Toshiro Hitsugaya reclines in his cushy leather swivel chair and taps a pen against his mouth. “Does she have any behavioral problems? A child isn’t removed from five preschools without reason.” 

Were he a different parent, Kenpachi would begin his vehement speech on how it was a teacher, classmate, or anyone else causing her behavioral issues and she received the blame. 

“Yachiru won’t be aggressive with her teacher or classmates. I will give them credit for trying with her, but her hyperactivity and impulse control issues became too much.” He shrugs. “I refuse to place her on medication and turn her into a zombie.” 

Toshiro gives his pen another tap. “I see her most recent teacher remarked that her social skills were phenomenal, but could be a distraction and that she lacked proper motor skills for her age.” 

Her artwork never made any bulletin boards. Instead, it made the refrigerator with the notes from teachers requesting they discuss her creativity. Their notes had increased in frequency after her creation: a rainbow that is also a heart but really looked like an abstract vagina to her teacher. 

“I don't even trust her with a plastic knife. I wasn't confident enough to give her any kind of scissors.” 

“Our art teachers Mister Kyōraku and Mister Ukitake believe in learning creativity before learning a skill, and both have infinite patience.” Toshiro rises, and he really is a child. “I do not give excellent tours, but I give tours.”

Kenpachi usually never spares attention for ornate designs or expensive things which have some meaning only the designer can understand. However, their preschool design commands attention. 

It is spacious, and he wonders just how many children does one person intend on cramming into the lobby? Their front desk lacks clutter but instead boasts a brand-new computer and carefully stacked paperwork. Unlike his previous tours, the walls are not lined with awards and diplomas, but artwork which rivals the abstract vagina.

Children chatter, shrieking, and squealing reaches near ear-splitting volume as they approach a door. 

A little girl raises her paint-smeared hand and nearly strikes the white-haired man attempting to braid her hair. Her bottom teeth are missing, a fact which she immediately announces while furiously waving her hand back and forth. 

Toshiro‘s voice becomes syrupy and thick. “You always make beautiful butterflies. Is this one for my office?”

“You have competition,” the man warns. “Shunsui has been waiting as patiently as he knows how for a butterfly painting.”

Kenpachi prepares for some joint pops or dislocations as the man begins righting himself. 

He sighs. “How old are you? I know that my little creature will ask and in a much less polite manner.” 

“I did not get a choice in my hair going white.” He says. “I am younger than it makes me appear. I usually leave work with blue, orange, or purple somewhere.” 

A different man wearing a garish pink smock moves between low tables. His hairy arms and stubbled face are covered with drying paint, which Kenpachi imagines will be a bitch to peel off later. it must itch terribly, too, but he approaches with a grin and claps the white-haired man on the shoulder. 

“Don’t be so hasty, Juushiro.” He grins. “I might be willing to give up a butterfly for whatever our newest artist can produce. When will we be getting our new student?”

“I have to complete some paperwork…” Kenpachi glances over the children. “I’ll be doing her paperwork stuff and then she begins on Monday.” 

“Paperwork isn’t a terribly painful process,” Toshiro promises. “Would you like to see her classroom?” 

Were he facing anyone else, Kenpachi would admit his true feelings towards a room whose sole purpose is to corral children, breeding germs under the guise of teaching them to share and building friendships. Instead, he plasters on a semi-sane smile and nods. 

Her future classroom is empty with shockingly clean tables and chairs. He would – could never judge anyone for having their children’s books or toys thrown haphazardly into bins considering the constant state Yachiru puts their apartment in. His amazement drops into shame, though, as he realizes nearly all the books and toys are in pristine condition. 

A small man pauses in his cleaning, rising with a minor grimace which he attempts masking with a smile. His arms are relatively toned for such a small person. His dark hair is shoulder length and appears to have been recently cut. The only thing which reduces his growing shame just a little bit is the dark bags under his eyes. 

“I accidentally became absorbed in cleaning again,” he admits. “I always emerge from work with bruises, scrapes, or sickness, but I can brag that my classroom is clean.”

Toshiro raises his chin and gives a somewhat smug smile. “Hanataro Yamada: our most beloved teacher, organizer, and always available to distract my secretary.” 

“Rangiku is always a pleasure to work with,” he says. “Sometimes, she just needs reminders to focus on her work. Am I rambling now?” 

Kenpachi fights a sudden urge to shake him and demand he continue rambling. No one can control these many children by themselves, maintain a clean room, and appear this chipper. Do something to appear imperfect. Do something to make him feel like less like a shit father. 

Instead, Hanataro smiles, cocks his head and who the fuck decided he needed extra long eyelashes? Yachiru is going to refer to them as princess lashes and likely get herself removed on the first day. 

“Look, Yachiru is a monster sometimes,” he says. “You’re going to be called a princess on Monday because she associates certain qualities with…”

Hanataro waits with that damned smile. “I've seen moments from even my most well-behaved children. I know its preferable to think children are loving and willing to give hugs and kisses all the time, but children simply aren't. I expect them to express their emotions and learn how to communicate and then deal with them.”

Kenpachi gives him a shaky smile. 

Yeah, Yachiru is definitely going to fuck him up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi takes Yachiru to her first day, and he might just be convinced to stay for a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Some use size as a bragging right in conversation whether it be anatomy or financial. Yumichika brags on his impeccable cleaning skills, and no one will ever argue with him, especially after seeing his apartment following a deep clean. Kenpachi has seen his specials firsthand, but his work is no match for Yachiru.

Yumichika lies among her discarded books, clothing, and toys. A coffee mug sits on his chest, reading: do I look like a fucking people person? Fuck off twat. 

“I am no longer taking regular payments,” he says. “I demand you either begin supplying alcohol or find a different babysitter.”

“Stop being a baby.” Kenpachi steps over him. “I got her into the preschool and listed you and Ikkaku as emergency contacts. You guys also have permission to pick her up should anything ever happen.” 

“I would rather driver your soccer mom van than put on that hideous baby wearing contraption.” 

Kenpachi ignores his continued whining and moves towards the open bathroom door. Yachiru has gathered her markers and scattered them over the counter and across the floor. Her brow is puckered with concentration, her tongue pokes from between her lips as she scrawls a heart onto his scalp. 

“Her work is improving,” he says. “You’re still pretty ugly, though.”

Yachiru tosses the uncapped marker aside, turns, and throws herself around his legs. Could she play this? Did he know that? Yumi still would not allow her to try his coffee, but he thinks that Baldy is beautiful like this or plain. 

Ikkaku gives him an expectant look as she continues her babbling. “How did everything go?”

“I didn’t have any problems getting her in. I should be able to pick her up every day this week, but you guys have permission to pick her up.”

“I better go figure how to work the baby carrier or convince Yumichika we can drive that soccer mom van.”

Kenpachi waits until he’s certain his impromptu babysitters have gone home for the evening before breaking into his secret alcohol stash. It resides under his bed, not for safety, considering Yachiru knows how to pick locks and crawl into and under everything, but from the babysitters. Yeah, warm alcohol doesn't even come close to ‘hitting the spot’ or fixing a dreadful day, but it is better than sharing. 

Tonight, he nurses the drink rather than chugging and shoving toys under the couch with a promise that he will clean on the weekend. Kenpachi flops down onto the floor, nursing his warm bottle, and nodding as she crawls over his back and legs, chattering about the day. She pauses, balancing on his calves.

“Will these be like those other schools?” 

“I hope not.” He shrugs. “I think you’re going to like the director a lot. You might mistake him for a classmate.” 

Yachiru giggles. “Am I going to like the teacher?”

Oh, right, the director is not their problem. Her teacher, Hanataro is the real issue here. 

Sure, Yumichika has impeccable cleaning skills. Yachiru is just one child, though, and her teacher had to be controlling at least twenty of those little monsters. Worse, he swears that he can take on any moments from her. 

“I’ll leave you to decide that part.” 

Yachiru launches forward, landing on his back, and begins explaining once more why he should let her have coffee, a discussion which she carries into bedtime and sleep talking. 

-

Other parents rely on multiple alarms to wake up with adequate time for themselves and their children. Kenpachi wakes up with Yachiru jumping up and down on his back, warning him the clock is getting closer and closer to bad word time. 

No one could ever say his daughter isn’t presentable. Yeah, her father is muttering fuckers while scalding his tongue on coffee and attempting to tie her shoes. Sure, the driver seat has crumbs from that time he had a breakdown trying to open her snack, but her car seat is stable. Like he said, no matter how presentable his daughter is, her father docks the presentable points. 

Given the choice, he would insist she go ahead while he signs in and does his best to avoid any eye contact with the other parents. Instead, his daughter marches directly for the perky secretary, rising on her tiptoes and resting her chin on the counter.

“Good morning,” she chirps. “I love your pink hair.” 

Yachiru grins and rises higher on her tiptoes. “Kenny does it for me. I like your big boobies.” 

“Thank you.” She laughs. “I made those by myself.” 

Kenpachi clears his throat and stares at a spot over her shoulder. “I don't really know how to do this. Do I need to check her in or…?” 

“I just need your names, and then you can take her back to her classroom.” 

Yachiru provides their names before he can even open his mouth, grabs his hand, and demands he take her to the classroom. Stalling is not an option. Pretending to be lost when other parents and teachers are milling around the hallways, discussing this project or that student is impossible. Kenpachi has no option other than to take her directly into the classroom. 

Inside, several children wander, gathering books, and moving towards a giant rug which he guesses is the reading corner. Hanataro watches their actions with a beaming smile, a smile which only brightens as he turns to greet them.

Hanataro crouches down and wraps his arms around his knees. “Good morning. You came on a perfect morning; we're starting with a snack and stories. Would you like to join the other children and pick a story?” 

Yachiru turns, squeezes his legs, chirps a goodbye, and races off to join the other children. Hanataro appears stunned and then utterly relieved. 

“I always begin Monday morning with snack and stories. Monday is rough on the parents, and their children cannot understand what is causing the extra stress or grouchiness from their parents. Besides rough mornings, I am so used to separation anxiety from new students.”

“Yachiru is pretty independent,” he says. “I've only seen her clingy when she gets sick or tired, but she just wants to be carried while she sleeps.” 

“Parents can also experience anxiety on first days. It is preferred parents leave after drop-off is completed, but you’re welcome to watch from the door for the first fifteen minutes to make sure she adjusts.” 

His ass is probably covered in crumbs. Worse, his ass has tracked crumbs all over their perfect floors and hallways. Did he even remember to brush his teeth post-coffee this morning? No, probably not, considering he scalded his tongue over and over. Yachiru is clean, though, and he remembered deodorant at the very least. 

Hanataro is watching him with a hopeful smile. How long has he been standing and staring? 

“I have work.” Goddammit, the guy looks like he just kicked a puppy. “I can stay for ten minutes, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Does anyone have any guesses where or who Kenpachi works for?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi waits for the inevitable call and is roped into attending a weekend event by his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Kenpachi remains five minutes before stuffing his hands into his pockets, ducking his head, and shuffling back towards the front desk. Hanataro commands attention from the little monsters with changing faces, voices, and even trusting them to turn the pages without ripping. Even his little monster is paying attention, though she continues scooting closer and closer, seemingly determined to be the next page-turner. 

Despite maintaining control over the room, he continues glancing over his shoulder until he reaches the front desk. 

Kenpachi opens his mouth, prepared to ask for whatever he must sign, but doesn’t receive the chance to speak.

“Everyone here refers to me as Miss Rangiku,” she says. “I have a rule: no playing favorites with the children, but your daughter might’ve broken that rule.”

“Does every new parent get this speech?” 

“I never compliment the parents with ugly children.” Rangiku shrugs. “You don’t need to appear so shocked. Ugly children do exist.”

He snorts and hurriedly scribbles his signature. “I appreciate the warning and will avoid any ugly children.” 

-

Kenpachi stores their morning interaction under ‘non-bitchy secretaries judging my parenting choices’ and takes it as a positive sign: she won’t be calling and asking that Yachiru come to be picked up. Despite his supposed positive sign, he waits for and expects for his phone to unleash a shrill ring. 

But his phone remains silent and is resigned to being stuffed into his back pocket on vibrate as he clocks in.

Tessai Tsukabishi: convenience store owner, enormous, and he might be strong enough to fight a bear. In fact, he might just be a bear since he enjoys making enough to feed eighteen, nibbling, and then insisting someone else take home the leftovers. Those speculations belong to Yachiru, but he isn't entirely sure either. He has his own theories regarding his boss. 

It is the only convenience store he knows which boasts a massive snack and weaponry selection. Anyone wishing to select something from the weaponry collection is required to give over their information, identification, and even receive a free snack of their choice. He doesn't know any other employer that would tolerate the frequent calls asking he come to pick up his daughter for this offense or that offense. His patience is only one positive, though. Tessai takes every opportunity possible to shove meals towards him, swearing he accidentally made too much again. No, the paychecks aren't amazing, but the extra benefits cover the shit paycheck. 

“Good morning,” Tessai booms from behind the counter. “How did Yachiru do this morning?”

Kenpachi waves sling his apron on, and ducks behind the counter. “I drove here without getting a call, which never happened with the last two places.” 

“I am not the least bit surprised.” A grin stretches beneath his mustache. “Don't eat those chips over there. Jinta is experimenting with firecrackers disguised as food again.”

“I’ll go put the sign up to warn customers…” 

His workday passes without any calls, texts, or customers asking stupid questions about the weaponry collection. Tessai waits until he's preparing to clock out before approaching him with a container overflowing with food and a broom. 

“The broom is for Jinta,” he promises. “You always receive the food. I do have a request, though.”

“I’ll work the weekend shift.”

“I don't need you for the weekend,” he says. “I'll be hosting a highly selective and special event this weekend, which will be catering to our best customers. You won't be working the event, but might meet someone new. Please bring family, friends, whoever you wish.” 

“Who's our best customers?” 

“Our best customers are the school staff.” 

Tessai gives him another grin. “I've never seen someone buy as much coffee as Miss Rangiku does, and their art teachers love the snacks.” 

Tessai knows he can curse better than any actor being chased by paparazzi. He's even witnessed the mouth a few times before. On his worst cursing day, he just earns a smack upside the head or leg swat with the broom and warning to clean his mouth up. Now, he might just be dragged into the bathroom and have that experimental soap crammed into his mouth. 

“I don't need to meet anyone,” he mumbles. “I haven't been with anyone since Yachiru's mother and you know how well that went.” 

“I am only suggesting you meet someone.” Tessai shrugs. “I do not suggest ripping everything off and getting together in the pantry.” 

“I didn't need that image.” He grimaces. “Is buying a sex toy enough compromise?” 

“I prefer the other option.” Tessai's expression becomes smug as he leans against the broom. 

“Mister Hanataro will be attending, and he asked whether I knew anything regarding a spouse.” 

Kenpachi clenches his jaw, crosses his arms over his chest, and turns his gaze towards the ceiling. It does not dissuade his smug expression, though. It just intensifies the smugness.

“I’ll attend,” he grumbles. “I don't plan on meeting anyone, though, and am bringing Ikkaku and Yumichika with me.”

Tessai laughs and pushes the container against his chest. “You might actually meet someone.”

“I’ll just visit the sex shop afterward…”

-

In all fairness, he hasn't placed meeting someone/dating someone under impossible things which will never happen in his lifetime. He doubts that Yachiru would oppose his finding someone. She doesn't seem like the type to sabotage relationships intentionally. 

Sure, women are initially attracted, but upon discovering the single father part? Women knock his attractiveness from a solid six up towards nine. But his frazzled parenting choices knock the nine back into six, five, four, and then he typically blocks their number. 

No matter his dating choices, which are his choices, he hesitates just outside the classroom. 

Wet paintings cover the walls, paintings which he guesses are families. Yachiru's is immediately obvious: a giant stick figure holds a much smaller one while two sit in the high corner, one sipping coffee and the other with too much eyeshadow. Tessai sits down in a corner with Jinta and Ururu clutching brooms, and dammit, it appears that she's added Hanataro into the family picture.

Yachiru bounds towards him and throws herself around his legs. “I like it here, Kenny.”

“You like it here, huh?” Kenpachi reaches down and musses her hair. “I like that painting you did.”

Hanataro glances over from the cluttered storybook area and smiles. 

“Yachiru was absolutely wonderful. She assisted with cleaning up and was the first one to receive a snack because she was the quietest. I even caught her comforting another student struggling with their first-day transition.” 

His stomach flutters with unexpected pride. 

Yachiru likes it here, her teacher is openly praising her, and she might be making friends. Kenpachi tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and smiles at her and then Hanataro. “I like it here too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot did not occur in this chapter. However, we unexpectedly lost someone this morning. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, kudos, bookmarks, and comments.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi attends the party and discovers something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Kenpachi gradually allows his anxieties to dissolve as the school days pass without phone calls. His apartment walls and fridge become covered with new artwork which she describes as mermaids, unicorns, and Yumichika as mermaid-unicorn hybrid suffering from a cold. Yachiru begins referring to him as happy Kenny and adds enormous smiles onto his mythical creatures and stick figures. Her only consistency is Hanataro as a tiny exhausted stick figure. 

It does not go unnoticed by Yumichika who observes every art piece with a critical eye. 

“How come he never gets to be a mythical creature?” Yumichika gestures towards the wall. “I am personally getting tired of being a mermaid and unicorn.” 

Yachiru continues decorating Ikkaku’s arm with a marker. “I haven’t picked his creature yet. Baldy is that one…. what is the goat-man thingy again?”

“A unicorn would never date a centaur,” he retorts. “I am going to be confronting those teachers of hers tonight. I demand to know just what she is learning.”

Kenpachi shrugs. “You’re the one who bought her all those mythical creature encyclopedias. I can’t control what she does with the knowledge.” 

She scans her marker collection, purses her lips, and shrieks that she’s off to grab the better markers for this next piece before sprinting down the hallway. Ikkaku and Yumichika watch her disappear and give each other a nod before drilling him with questions. 

How’s everything going? Is it acceptable to just pop in since he apparently no longer needs them? What is with the teacher appearing consistently in every art piece when previous pieces never ever considered either the classmates or the teacher? 

“We would have a drinking night were things going to shit,” he grumbles. “I never approved anyone popping in, to begin with, and I don’t question the kid does.”

“I question everything she does,” Yumichika says. “I question everything that Ikkaku does and we share an apartment together. We don’t even have tape separating my side of the fridge from his anymore, and he knows how to make my coffee. Yet, I still question everything.”

“I would appreciate it did you keep the paranoia under control tonight,” he grumbles. “Don’t question too much around her teachers. Remember, you’re an emergency contact, and I don’t really have anyone else outside you two.”

“You might as well ask him to be a foot taller, Kenpachi.” 

“Just don’t scare anyone away or you lose drinking night privileges over here.”

“We can drink in our own apartment?”

“I’ll find something to take away,” he growls. “Just behave yourselves tonight.” 

-

Yumichika grabs a drink, loads his plate with food, and settles into the corner for people watching. Everyone receives a quick once-over before he delivers a cruel elbow into Kenpachi’s side and asks whether this is the teacher. 

“I expected her art teachers to be far more hippie-like…” he murmurs. “I disapprove his black eyebrows with white hair, and that other one is dressed in such a garish pink.” 

Kenpachi couldn’t argue with his statement. Shunsui appears to have stumbled directly from the eighties with his high waisted pants and hot pink sequined shirt. Regardless, Juushiro appears totally unbothered with his persistent public displays: tucking his hair behind his ear, offering sips from their shared drink, and sneaking kisses. 

Yumichika arches an eyebrow and cranes his neck. “Are public displays with Ikkaku considered off limits? I refuse to be shown up.” 

“You better grab him now while Yachiru is distracted,” he warns. “Jinta will attempt pawning her off onto someone else in roughly five minutes.” 

He needs no further warning and hurries to grab Ikkaku.

Now, he isn’t some inexperienced partier. Were this a different environment and he didn’t have the little monster to tote home, he would settle for people watching and sampling everything until someone found the sober driver. This isn’t really the blasting music, get fucked up, and either find the sober friend or fuck some stranger environment, though. Besides that, Ikkaku and Yumichika have pulled the ‘you owe us for all the free babysitting’ card. 

Tessai clears his throat and gives him a hard stare. Right, he’s supposed to be meeting someone. Jinta will just peel the creature off his leg and return parenting duties. The art teachers have been claimed by Yumichika and is obviously not going to share. He settles on a couple across the room. 

A man with ashy blonde hair sways slowly back and forth. A substantially younger woman stands at his elbow and coos over a furiously blinking baby. Right, he can do. He has some knowledge of babies and parenting. 

“It doesn’t get any easier,” he says as he approaches. “Everyone says it gets easier, but you just get put through different shit.”

“My sister, Karin offered to color on the walls,” she laughs. “She said it will give us the experience.”

“Oh…” Kenpachi glances back and forth between them. “I thought you were her grandfather.” 

A cackle fills the room, and everyone turns to stare at Jinta flailing, pointing, and snorting. 

“Boss got called old,” he howls. “I got to hear him be called old.”

Fuck, fuck, and fuck him with an iron pole. He’s just called his secretive, possibly-didn’t-exist boss an old man. A kid’s assumption would be cute and possible to laugh off, but this is him. Jinta continues his howling and he’s tempted to just grab Ikkaku, Yumichika, Yachiru, and sprint for the door. Dammit, he isn’t going to receive a chance, though, because here comes Hanataro. A busty orange haired woman trails behind him, swinging an overflowing bag back and forth. A gruff man with burn marks scattered on his arms stomps alongside them and looks around with a grin. 

“Orihime brought food,” he crows. “Is anyone here brave enough to give it a try?”

Thankfully, he provides the necessary distraction as people hurry over to offer help and dare one another to give the food a try. The boss gives him a grin and carefully nudges him with his shoulder. 

“I am old,” he chuckles. “I can take a little shit from employees, especially when it's not coming from Jinta.” 

“My kid will give you far more shit than him.” He glances around. “I better go find her actually.” 

Yeah, it counts as meeting someone, and Yachiru has somehow glued herself onto Hanataro and is munching on a disgusting looking sandwich. 

“Orihime’s never convinced anyone to try her food,” he marvels. “Yachiru has practically inhaled the sandwiches.”

“What’s wrong with her food?”

“Her favorite sandwiches are typically red bean paste, butter, and cheese.” He winces. “I’ve convinced her to make some ‘tame’ options for tonight, but she insisted that someone might want to try these.”

Yachiru grins with crumbs around her mouth. “Mister Hana has two roommates, and one has a real live pet pig!”

“My roommate, Ganju, owns a piglet, Bonnie,” he admits. “Once she becomes too large for the apartment, he intends on moving her to his sister’s house and visiting.”

Yachiru bounces up and down on her toes. “Do you know the best part, Kenny?”

“What’s the best part, kid?”

“Hana lives right below us.”

Kenpachi reaches for a drink. “That sure is great, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi wakes up in an unfamiliar place and receives another meddling push.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Fuck, his back is killing him. Worse, this isn’t his apartment. Whoever lives here owns fancy paintings, cushy rugs, and his poor view into the kitchen reveals a refrigerator that Yumichika would murder for. Ganju is sprawled mere feet away with drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. It doesn’t smell like a pig, which rules out their apartment. 

Ikkaku, Yachiru, and Yyumichika have claimed the stranger’s couch with a massive blanket and pillow pile. Orihime slumps against the arm, which just leaves the teacher. Kenpachi cranes his stiff neck and then grunts.

Hanataro Yamada: professional life destroyer is currently glued to his leg. Peeling him off can’t be any more difficult than shaking Yachiru in the mornings when he needs to pee, and she wants five more hours. Except he doesn’t have the same extreme death grip his daughter does and looks totally peaceful for once.

“Don’t you look cute?” Yumichika coos. “I wish I had easier access to my phone. Then we could record this joyous event.” 

“Make sure you keep it going when I shove it up your ass,” he hisses. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Don’t you remember anything from last night?” He arches a slender eyebrow. “You became absolutely wrecked as did most every other attendant. In fact, the only sober parties remaining were Tessai and her art teacher, Juushiro who volunteered his house since we couldn’t drive ourselves home.” 

“We’re changing schools tomorrow,” he groans. “I cannot be spooning with one teacher and spending the night at another’s.”

“Quit being so dramatic,” Shunsui demands as he enters the room. “You two do look cute.” 

God, his morning attire is even worse than last night. What he guesses is a woman’s robe hangs loosely around his shoulders, displaying far too much chest hair for his personal comfort. His hair has been loosened from its usual ponytail and hangs around his face and shoulders.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Kenpachi says. “We’re leaving now and never staying here again, though.”

“Ikkaku isn’t awake yet,” Yumichika says. “I haven’t had my morning coffee and you know what a little demon she is on the weekend mornings.”

Shunsui waves dismissively and moves towards the kitchen. What is it with these teachers and their total laxness surrounding privacy? 

“You aren’t the first ones to stay here; Hanataro crashes here whenever necessary as do the other teachers. We have a rule around the school. anyone that needs help is welcome to lean on their co-workers.”

Yumichika is comfortable enough to wiggle free from the miniature fort created by the blankets, bodies, and pillows. He quickly smooths his hair and follows Shunsui into the kitchen, rattling off his coffee order. 

His keys aren’t digging into him through his pockets. No one came in with a bag that he could’ve accidentally ditched them in — that he can he remember. Shunsui doesn’t seem like the type willing to just send guests (welcome or not) out the door without breakfast and coffee. 

“I’m totally fucked,” he says to the ceiling. “I am so fucked.” 

Orihime stretches her arms over her head and rolls her neck until it gives a satisfying pop. She collapses forward a moment and then pops up with seemingly renewed energy. 

“Good morning,” she chirps. “We’re back here again, huh?” 

“You’re back here again.” Kenpachi shrugs stiffly. “I’ve never been in this place before.” 

Orihime maintains her chipper aura despite his coldness. It seems to swell as she notices Hanataro is glued onto his leg. It lasts mere seconds, and then her expression appears sympathetic. 

“I can give you a break,” she offers. “Hanataro will remain asleep so long as he has something to touch. Just shift him over towards Ganju, and then we should take a walk.” 

With his luck, Yachiru will wake up as soon as the door closes. Ikkaku and Yumichika are his emergency contacts and go-to babysitters, but they’ve never watched her with a hangover before. Ikkaku also hasn’t been woken up by crawling, jumping, or pushing on his body. Orihime must notice his nerves as she nudges his leg with her foot. 

“We can sit out front should you prefer,” she says. “It is important that we speak, though.” 

“Sure,” he mumbles. “Unglue him from my leg and we’ll go outside.” 

-

It is still an unfamiliar environment outdoors, but he’s thankfully away from the indoor noise and buzz. Kenpachi searches his pockets and shoes for his keys while Orihime gets comfortable beside him. 

“I realize their closeness must be shocking,” she says. “I found their closeness a little shocking whenever we first became roommates. We've really become a family, though.” 

“I have Yachiru and no one else,” he replies. “Sure, I got Ikkaku and Yumichika, but those two have their own shit going on. I don't have anything going with her mother, and she doesn’t have anything going on with our daughter.”

“I was raised in a non-traditional household,” she admits. “My brother turned eighteen, cut contact with our parents, and began acting as my parent. his passing still doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting him to come through the apartment door because he forgot his lunch or keys or something so simple. We were still functioning until Ganju lost his brother, and then we quit functioning.” 

Kenpachi nods rather than attempting an arm around the shoulder or scooting closer. Yachiru does the hugging and comforting shit. He just listens and pretends like he can understand. 

“I keep waiting for Yachiru to ask about her mother,” he mumbles. “Yachiru understands the whole: some people have two parents, some have one parent, and some live with other people when their parents cannot take care of them. I don't know how to explain that birth control failed and mother didn't really want to be a mother, but I wasn't giving her over to foster care part.” 

“Our parents shouldn't have been parents.” Orihime shakes her head. “I always understood that, but Sora's passing made it harder because I couldn't lean on them and cry and share my grief. Hanataro poured everything into taking care of us.” 

“He’s going to be a fine teacher then.”

“Hanataro’s ultimate career goal is becoming a nurse.” Orihime grins. “Hanataro loves teaching and always comes home with some story for us. Lately, his stories are focused on Yachiru…all positive things, I promise. As much as he loves teaching, though, it is caring for all those children and coming home – knowing or thinking that we need him, it drains him.”

“Does anyone else know?” 

“I think some co-workers are worried. Juushiro and Shunsui have an open-door policy for anyone who wants to get away from stress or just needs quiet. Hanataro sometimes comes here to sleep, but…he needs to touch someone else to sleep through the night.” 

“Is he willing to accept any help?”

“Hanataro’s classroom is seeking parent volunteers.” Her smile widens. “I consider you a perfect candidate.”

“I can barely manage one little monster.”

“Consider it practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi volunteers and discovers Hanataro is not as perfect as he appears on the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

“I'm already sorry for agreeing to this,” Kenpachi mutters as Rangiku slaps a nametag onto his shirt. “Tessai never should have agreed to give me the day off.”

Rangiku claps him on the shoulder with a bright sunshiny smile. It’s no surprise she loves this. She’ll probably find some excuse to pop into the classroom later. Worse, Rangiku will come with a camera and order him and Hanataro to stand together. 

“You’re going to be fine,” she says. “I just hope you’re prepared to be used as a jungle gym.” 

“I can tolerate that.” Kenpachi sighs and looks down at Yachiru. “Come on, you know the way there.” 

Yachiru grips his fingers like she intends on crushing him, bounces on her tiptoes, and tugs him towards her classroom. Yachiru has already prepped him for the Monday routine and claims to have bragged to the others how her father is going to be better than any of the other parent volunteers. 

“You’ll be fine,” she says and pats him on the leg. “Mister Hana always hugs the criers.” 

“Thanks for the encouragement,” he mumbles. “You can go play now. Go play or do whatever it is you do.” 

Yachiru grins and rushes for the already crowded reading rug. Children gather around Hanataro’s legs with books overflowing from their arms, babbling excitedly, and pushing them against his legs. His available sitting spaces are in the corner, tiny chair, or squatting beside Hanataro. It seems most volunteers choose the tiny chair route until the children are accustomed to them. Unfortunately, his daughter makes the choice for him.

“Kenny is here,” she chirps. “Could he share the chair with you, Mister Hana?” 

Hanataro flushes bright pink and ducks his head. “We’ll have a tight squeeze, but I’ve shared the chair with multiple children before, right? We can fit together.” 

A wrong move or little squirm will see Hanataro sitting in his lap. Yachiru knows no strangers, which means she’ll spread the news among the parents and everyone will be calling Hitsugaya reporting the teacher sitting in the volunteer’s lap. But the guy has already been glued onto his leg, which people probably already know. 

Fuck it. 

Kenpachi tiptoes through the miniature jungle composed of books and children. Sitting down requires even more aim as the children scoot closer and closer. He balances right on the edge with his legs tucked beneath the chair. Yachiru scoots forward until she can touch his leg and gives him a grin. A few others follow her lead but do not get anywhere near as close.

“I see all my friends are here,” Hanataro says and pats his lap. “I look forward to reading today's choices and would like to introduce our volunteer: Mister Kenpachi. Would you like to get us started this morning?” 

A few brave children push their choices onto his lap. Everyone is watching him, expectant and impatient, squirming about as he shuffles through the small pile. 

“Is there some special order? Does it rotate on who picks every Monday?” 

“You can begin however you wish.” 

Kenpachi grabs the top book, clears his throat, and tilts it towards the children. A few exclaim, shriek, and squeal as beloved characters appear on the pages. One child scoots closer and closer until he’s practically wrapped around his leg. He pauses when the children demand him to and wait as their fingers comb over the still characters, willing them to come to life. His throat is beginning to dry when Hanataro gives him a gentle elbow nudge. 

“You’re quite popular already,” he says. “But we should get them ready for art.” 

Art triggers yet another excited reaction. Everyone jumps up and begins chattering over one another. Hanataro raises his hand and wordlessly moves towards the door. It's an action which generates a slow shuffle behind him. It does not immediately shush the chatter as some continue speaking. But it steadily dribbles into silence as he lowers his hand. 

“Thank you, my friends,” he says. “Please remember: I might not be in the art room, but I expect my friends will behave as well as they do in here.” 

Kenpachi watches, stunned, as he guides them in a nearly single-file-line. When does the tantrum happen? 

-

Hanataro's perfect composure dissolves as soon as he returns to the classroom. Hanataro sighs and stretches his arms over his head before sitting down on the floor. Kenpachi gathers up an enormous book pile and dumps it onto their previously shared chair. 

“What happened? Did someone have a meltdown in the hallway?” 

“Nobody suffered a meltdown,” he promises with a shaky smile. “I am trying very hard not to have my own meltdown, though.” 

“I might not be as great as comforting other people as the little monsters are, but I can try.” 

“A chemical imbalance does not always understand comfort. It appreciates my drinking water, napping, and pretending like everything is okay. It does not have much patience for other things, though. A chemical imbalance enjoys saying things like: no one loves you, friends are just tolerating you, and climb back into bed.” 

Kenpachi sits down beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. Yachiru would just give him a hug and call his brain names until he smiled or seemed semi-happy. It won’t work here, though. 

“Ganju and Orihime love you,” he says. “You just have a jackass for a brain. Does the piglet have a favorite person?”

“Bonnie’s favorite should be her owner, right? I always expected it would be Ganju or his sister as she takes Bonnie on some weekends, preparing her for the transitionary period. But she prefers me more than anyone else.” 

“How come you’re the favorite rather than her owner?”

“I’ve always struggled with insomnia, and she makes the perfect companion for nighttime walks. Sometimes, we share ice cream afterward or she gets to roll around in dirt without interruption.”

“I’ve always been Yachiru’s favorite, but now we're competing. Her babysitters have been demoted and no longer even make the list for consideration. She might not know a stranger, but she is highly selective when it comes to her favorites.” 

“I wish she were more selective. I am nothing special – sorry that was my brain speaking.” 

“Yachiru genuinely believes you shit rainbows, breed unicorns, and piss pure excellence. You can tell the brain to go fuck itself.”

Hanataro leans against his arm and doesn’t startle or pull away when he places it around his shoulders. 

“I suppose a child’s rule is the law around here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: thank you so much for reading! Our internet is being extremely wonky right now, and I appreciate everyone's patience.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yachiru asks a difficult question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Yachiru poses her question during a rare vulnerable moment. His alarm clock helplessly blinks midnight over and over. Any parent to ever make eye contact with him all give the same warning: say goodbye to sleeping in. His parenting is probably too lax by their standards, and knowing they co-sleep in a teeny apartment and even teenier bed? It would result in unwanted parenting advice. 

His co-sleeping experience has been — decent. She drools, rolls, and performs the occasional kicking performance. But she enjoys the taboo of sleeping in on weekends or accepts her fate of cartoons until he wakes up. 

A cheerful narrator begs the children return tomorrow for another episode and thanks them for participating. Yachiru doesn’t even give the credits a chance to roll before poking his side. 

“I’m still awake,” she whispers. “Could I watch another episode?”

“You can watch a thousand episodes. I just want you to stop giving me a play-by-play so that I can get some sleep.” 

A new narrator takes over with the same cheerful tone. Yachiru performs a final roll and pops her thumb into her mouth. Bottles, pacifiers, and sippy cups are for babies. A stuffed animal won't fit into their already overflowing bed. Her thumb is the rare and permanently accessible comfort, one which she reserves for moments like this. 

It gives him a few glorious moments of peace, and he practically has a breathing pattern established when she pops her thumb from her mouth. 

“I have a question,” she says. “Don’t get angry, though.”

“Is it an important question? I can answer something like where babies come from in the morning.” 

“Where is girl Kenny?” Her thumb goes back into her mouth. “You can like Mister Hana, but where is the girl you?”

“Where is your mother?” 

Her thumb sucking becomes louder. Her free hand searches for something else to clutch and settles onto his arm. Someone has shrunk his bedroom down into doll size. It is too much for two bodies and a murmuring television. 

Ideally, now is the time for the dollhouse owner to resume playtime. Find the mother. Move the daughter back into her room. Turn off the television. Dollhouse owner’s parents will tuck them into bed and cease the play for tonight. The family remains intact. 

It would be much easier did a dollhouse owner or writer take over his life. But he doesn't get those options.

“I’ll answer you later,” he promises. “I just want you to know now: what happened between us would’ve happened no matter what. It was us. It wasn’t you.”

“Is she dead?”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” 

-

Morning comes unfairly quick. Yachiru lounges, unwilling to give up the warm space. Her wet thumb draws a pattern across the bedspread and Ikkaku’s arms. 

Yumichika shuffles around the kitchen and murmurs under his breath. Coffee is necessary for this discussion, preferably something excessively strong. Kenpachi would sooner slice his own intestines out before dumping cream and sugar into his coffee. Sugar is necessary this morning, though, and he is more than willing to take the intestine slicing. 

“You better eat something with this,” he warns. “You aren’t a man to enjoy sweets and this has enough sugar to put Yachiru into a coma.”

Kenpachi accepts his mug with a grunt. “I can take it. I think Tessai dumps sugar into my coffee when I’m not looking; yours is mild.”

He scalds his tongue while Yumichika searches for an acceptable breakfast food. 

“I realize her question is difficult,” he murmurs. “We were stunned this morning as soon as we read the text. It was inevitable, though.” 

“Do you have any suggestions on how to sugar up our nasty love story for her?”

Yumichika dumps more sugar into his coffee and clicks his tongue. 

Her mother intended on living childfree. 

Children were shrieking and snotty demons in her opinion. Her friends were crying over on-time menstrual cycles while she rejoiced. Every and any sexual encounter required birth control, condoms, and careful planning. An infection requiring antibiotics and too much alcohol gave them two pink lines. 

It is not something he can sugarcoat and make pretty, even for his overoptimistic daughter. 

Kenpachi takes another scalding sip. 

“I never knew it was a love story,” Yumichika murmurs between sips. “I don’t encourage lying to her, but you can protect her from some things about her mother. It might be better to wait and answer some questions until she gets older.” 

Waiting isn’t an option. Digging through his amateur ‘family photos’ isn’t an option either. Do you see this absolutely wasted couple hanging onto one another for support? There she is, kid. There is your mother. 

“I might know where she lives, but we agreed that no contact would be best. It wasn’t like those books or movies where she developed maternal love and instinct as soon as the baby came out. Her birth plan specifically asked she not see or touch Yachiru.” 

“Does Yachiru even want to see her? You’re assuming and attempting to cover everything without even knowing what she wants.” 

“What would you say?”

Yumichika chews on his cheek. Yachiru is — optimistic and with nothing can crush her world attitude. 

Her grasp on death is there. Squashing an insect is irreversible. It goes to what she knows an insect heaven and will never come back as that same insect. How many fish funerals had been held? Yumichika no longer has sweet things to say about the fish going down the toilet. Her absentee mother isn’t dead, though. 

“Does her family know about Yachiru?” 

“I never really discussed family while banging in the backseat. Once she let it slip that she has a younger sister, but she didn’t give away her name.”

“I ask you not destroy her optimism, because, without her optimism, I cannot act as a babysitter anymore. Giving her the absentee mother just wasn’t ready for motherhood argument won’t work, because she’ll likely ask when her mother will be ready…” Yumichika rubs his forehead. “You could always track her down for medical history. But there is no way to sugarcoat this into a child-friendly storybook.” 

A better question: when has he ever been considered child-friendly? Its another question which he doesn’t have the answer for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanataro gives Kenpachi some perspective on unconventional families and the necessary encouragement to speak with his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Hanataro couldn’t appear more beatdown did someone drag him through the streets and dump him before a shutdown hospital. A buffer wouldn't be enough to remove the bags from beneath his eyes. He probably attempted the cold shower, hot shower routine to wake up this morning. He seems determined to set a new record for most mints stuffed into the mouth under a minute until Kenpachi grabs his arm.

“You're going to choke,” he scolds. “I ain't heimliching you in front of the kids either.” 

“I'm sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn't have time to brush my teeth and my breakfast was a cookie.”

Kenpachi waits in silent impatience for the mints to dissolve into chewable pieces. His fingers twitch, desperate for something to break or twist around. In a preschool classroom, his appropriate options are limited, which forces him to grab some paper and fold it over and over. 

Hanataro watches his hands and crunches down on a mint. “Is Yachiru unwell?” 

“I've been having trouble getting her to sleep and have gone through every single routine possible. She was struggling to stay awake while she ate breakfast this morning, though, and I figured it would be best that she stay home with the babysitters.” 

“I understand.” He crunches another mint. “I’m not prying as her teacher, but as your friend. Is everything okay?” 

Kenpachi groans and relays her question. No matter how innocent, it's completely disrupted their routine and enhanced his attempts at dodging her questions. Hanataro listens without interruption or suggestions. His expression remains neutral as he runs through the routine upsets and improved dodging techniques. His mints crack between his teeth, diminishing until he has nothing left.

“I had an unconventional upbringing,” he says. “Growing up, my mother knew she wanted children. Her initial focus was on getting through school, building her career, and making an environment she wanted to raise children in. I know she did everything right, but no matter what she did, it would never take.”

His expression is pensive and warm. He doesn’t appear so beaten down, speaking about his mother. 

“I was born through a surrogate, which she was always open about. I’ll never meet the egg donor or sperm donor as per our contracts and know the surrogate received monetary gain from doing this. I like believing it came from a genuine desire to see someone happy and not just the monetary gain.”

“You sure have faith in people.”

“People were less concerned with how our family became our family. They were far more concerned over her choice to raise me as a single mother. Her career gave her more than enough financial cushion for any emergency, and she could afford the luxury of in-home daycare when she returned to work.” 

His financial cushion is nonexistent. Ikkaku and Yumichika could probably count as in-home daycare minus being paid. 

“Do you know how many stares I get on a regular day?” Kenpachi shakes his head. “People always seem worried I stole someone else’s kid. I once had someone ask where her mother was, and she had the balls to look offended when I told her to fuck off. I didn’t ask where her husband was.”

“I guess she intended on keeping co-workers in the dark until she was comfortable. A nurse thought she would announce how her newborn son looked literally nothing like her, and how come she didn’t share the news? Was she ashamed? How come she was gone so long? You see, she traveled outside the country to avoid any legal battles while finding a surrogate. It became known as the day she shared her murderous smile.”

“Is there anything she can’t or won’t do?”  


“I keep waiting and worrying that eventually her other signature look: disappointment eyes will focus on me. I have a career goal to become a nurse. I won’t do it by clinging to my mother's achievements, though. Her accomplishments belong to her, and mine should be mine. I love being a teacher, and she swears that my happiness is enough. Deep down inside, you always wonder.”

“You’re doing better than I am,” he promises. “I work in a convenience store with an owner determined to make sure my family survives. A different boss would’ve fired my ass a long time ago, but he insists on keeping me. I still feel like one of those teenagers panicking, because their weird aunt got trashed and wants to know their goals.” 

“Do you have someone like that in the family?” 

“I don’t have really any family, which means Yumichika gets to fulfill the role.” 

“Would he willingly share with Rangiku?” 

“I’ll ask him tonight.” Kenpachi gives him as careful a clap on the back as he can manage. “We better get the room ready.” 

-

Kenpachi waits until her eyelids begin drooping before giving into the dreaded question. Yachiru sighs, tugging the hood on her robe up as another commercial rolls. 

“I’ve been avoiding that question,” he mumbles. “Everyone has different families, right? Families can be like us with just one parent. Sometimes when parents can’t or won’t care for their little monsters, family members or foster parents will. You probably aren’t ready for the whole surrogacy thing yet.” 

“Was I stolen?”

“You weren't stolen,” he promises with a gruff laugh. “I mentioned how sometimes people can't or won't take care of their little monsters. Well, some people don't want little monsters for themselves. Sometimes, the person wants to keep their freedom, money, or just doesnt like or want children.”

Yachiru watches, appearing somewhat doubtful on her being stolen. He takes a deep breath and continues. 

“I never asked her reason, because it never came up, but your mother intended on living childfree. as a precaution, she did everything possible to continue living childfree, but you surprised us. Once we knew, we had a long discussion about our options and what would be best for you.”  


Her small fingers grasp his sleeve. Is this her polite/sympathetic attempt at saying: thanks for trying? well, it doesnt seem like her optimism has been crushed by the world. 

“I grew up a foster child and we weren't even going to consider placing you there. I quit partying and found work. I moved into a shitty but temporary place until I could find better, and we came to an agreement before you were born. Our agreement was no contact.” 

“How come?” 

“A newborn couldn't ask questions or make demands, I know we tried acting calmly in front of the doctor, but she knew we were terrified and didn't know anything, but she was unsure how to step in and help us.

“You/ve done okay.” 

“I just get the world's most mediocre dad award? Is letting you try coffee enough compromise to get higher?”

Her grasp becomes tighter. “Could I see her now? I am older…” 

“It isn't as easy as that,” he warns. “I’ll see what I can do, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenpachi should've known working around children would have consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Yachiru gives his forehead what she believes are sympathetic pats, but truthfully just further his already throbbing headache. Kenpachi shudders, burrowing deeper into his freshly made blanket cocoon. Everything including his teeth is aching. 

“I can get more water,” she whispers. “Do you need tissues again? I didn't finish my cereal.” 

Chewing and swallowing will take too much energy. Blowing his nose intensifies his headache. It doesn't even give him anything. His runny nose somehow becomes stuffy the moment he glances towards tissues. Yachiru continues watching him, hand inching towards the tissues on the nightstand. 

“I appreciate the offer, but nothing helps. I just need five minutes to rest my eyes.”

Her mouth puckers with concern. “You never rest…”

“I'll be fine. I just need five minutes.” 

His five-minute solution does nothing except cause his nose to switch between itching, running, and stuffed so much he cannot breathe. Yachiru wanders between their bedroom and the living room with unnecessary and typically unhelpful cures. Somewhere between her slipping her beloved stuffed animal under his arm and trying to convince him that this ice water has magical powers, someone knocks. 

“I'm not too sick to answer the door,” he groans. “Go wash your hands while I get the door. I can't manage us both being ill.” 

Yachiru bounces off with a promise to check the fridge for juice once she finishes. Juice makes him gag and imagining it with his mucus-clogged throat? Kenpachi shudders and moves sluggishly towards the door. 

Yumichika would sooner go grocery shopping without makeup than risk illness. Yumichika’s germaphobe habits also forbid Ikkaku from entering the apartment until everything has been doused in disinfectant. A vicious cough bubbles in his chest as he tugs the door open. 

“What's with the fucking piglet?” Kenpachi demands seconds before the hacking begins. “Is she coming inside or not, because this air is hurting my arms.” 

Hanataro continues patting the piglet as though he has an actual baby. Air continues pumping through the open door, and how come no one else is bothered by this? 

“I should've known this would happen.” Hanataro shakes his head. “Children are living, breathing germ buckets always searching for the next person or thing to infect. Yachiru has an unbelievable immune system, which I guess does not come from you? I've developed a strong immunity from constantly being around the germ buckets.” 

“Is there anything helpful in this speech? I'll inject cold medicine into my arm or cram things into my ass. Do you have something for those urges?” 

“I have supplies for this cold and things to keep Yachiru occupied until you're well again.” 

“Does anyone else intend on helping you?” 

“Everyone in the building can hear the coughing. I don't mean to be impolite but its making work difficult and causing some concern among the other tenants. Originally a plan was developed which involved sending the bravest one to check on you, but I have the most experience with you both.” 

Yachiru squeals how this is the piglet named Bonnie, which is learning tricks and just wait until he feels well enough to see those. Kenpachi makes a brief prayer that his neighbors don't make another complaint as he tugs Hanataro into the apartment. 

-

Hanataro banishes him to the couch with water, blankets, and apparently calming sounds while he disinfects the bedroom. Raindrops might as well be jackhammers since his medication still hasn't kicked in. Yachiru wanders back and forth between the bedroom and couch with the piglet trailing her like a shadow. 

Bonnie can roll over and knows how to use a litter box. Does he enjoy the little snuffling sound she makes when excited? Hanataro appears somewhere between her rolling over and squealing, peeling rubber gloves off and asking that Bonnie receive breakfast in the kitchen. 

“I better be reimbursed for that pig chow,” he grunts. “What does it eat? Will it bite her fingers off?” 

“Yachiru could recite animal safety precautions in her sleep. I've heard my mother teasing Ganju that Bonnie better behave unless she wants to become stew. I know she's only teasing, but his reaction will never stop being funny.” 

“Is there any soup to make me feel better?” 

Hanataro continues with that overwhelmingly warm bedside manner despite the persistent frustrations coming toward him. “You should get some sleep right now. I'll prepare something for when you wake up.” 

“I keep things…” Kenpachi makes a vague gesture towards the ceiling. “You can figure it out.” 

What convinced him that he needed blankets? Kenpachi can feel his forehead and back growing wet. Reaching for his water seems impossible with his limbs weighed down. A cool hand rests on his head, checking for a fever and pushing his hair away. Hanataro clicks his tongue and kneels, mumbling something beneath his breath as he leans forward, and presses chapped lips against his forehead. 

“You could have mentioned needing help sooner,” he scolds. “There's never shame in needing help.” 

“I don’t need help,” Kenpachi grumbles. “I can do fine.” 

Kenpachi tries and miserably fails to find the energy for argument when Hanataro snorts. He settles for rolling his eyes, burrowing into the couch arm and doing his best to ignore the background noise. 

-

Kenpachi wakes up disoriented and thirsty. Yachiru slumbers on the living room floor with her thumb dangling from her mouth. Bonnie snores viciously enough to wake the whole apartment complex, but his daughter appears unbothered with the animal snuffling and snorting right in her ear. 

Grunting, he does a confused search for his water until he nearly topples the entire thing. Irritation becomes immediate relief as he grabs and gulps. Five drinks later, he slams the empty cup down on the table. Sleep has taken the headache edge off and ended the toothache pain. Hanataro watches him from the kitchen with a somewhat relieved smile. 

“I was getting worried,” he says quietly. “How are you feeling?” 

“How long was I asleep for? I still feel shitty, but the worst is over. Right?” 

“I refuse to promise anything. I will, however, offer some food as a compromise. I gave Yachiru lunch and some medicine as a precautionary measure when she started complaining about a headache. Do you want to try eating?” 

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I snacked a little,” Hanataro mumbles and shrugs. “I could probably have lunch.”

Kenpachi rolls his eyes and throws the blanket back. “Come on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I am very much alive despite being gone since summer. Unfortunately, I underwent an emotional and mental wringer. 
> 
> I am back in school and things are better, but school takes up a lot of my time and energy.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.

Hanataro's cooking overrides his vile medicinal concoctions. Kenpachi gives his spoon one final swirl, checking for anything that could be medications disguised as food. Eating vegetables can't make him feel any worse than he already does. Besides, it gives him some strength for the next time Yachiru wants to argue. 

“How does it taste?” Hanataro prompts. “Yachiru ordered seconds while having bread as a side.” 

He couldn't argue with her. Hanataro’s soup has cooled enough to prevent scalding his mouth, but it's still warm. 

Kenpachi's cooking skills lean more toward simplicity. Tessai’s cooking could tide them over for a week sometimes. Takeout food is reserved for splurging or fucked up weeks. Sandwiches with canned soup made decent dinners from his perspective. Yachiru never complained, especially when he added usually wilting vegetables or browning fruits.

“I can't name anything in here,” he warns. “You're almost up there with Tessai’s cooking level. What did you do?” 

He shrugs. “I cook for two roommates and a piglet. Orihime would live on her disgusting food combinations without intervention while Ganju excludes pork from his diet. I haven't conquered the elusive cooking for picky eaters skill yet, though.”

Kenpachi grunts, an invitation for Hanataro to continue while he finishes eating. Hanataro might as well be speaking another language, or have dumped him into a critically acclaimed restaurant. 

First, he discloses coupon deals. Then come the grocery store secrets: where grocers keep their best produce, where butchers keep their best meat, and how to haggle without becoming aggressive. Hanataro rattles off recipes without offering to write them down or asking whether he has any interest beyond hearing them. Somewhere between his advice on how to avoid crying while chopping onions, he refills the bowl and makes an offer. 

“I'll go shopping right now,” he declares. “You deserve something between allowing a stranger to invade the apartment, raid cabinets, and use the kitchen.”

Coupons are probably clipped or on his phone for whatever special he wants. Hanataro will know the cashier by their first name and have a lengthy genuine conversation with them. Grocery shopping is something delightful rather than a tedious necessity. Kenpachi objects and even demands that he sit down and eat something. 

It goes ignored. Hanataro makes a vague promise to return within an hour and somehow manages to close the door without a squeak or whine. 

Kenpachi tugs his chair back into place with his foot, glancing around the now empty kitchen. “I’ll be here?”

-

Somewhere between blaring commercials and congested snoring, Yachiru raises his arm to crawl underneath it. Bonnie circles several times, pressing her snout into the carpet before she finally settles. 

He dreams about coupon deals, specifically irate customers demanding to see a manager for their expired coupons. Every cashier has their hair pulled into a low ponytail, their customer service smiles weak from extensive arguing. The cashier on register six requests their break along with every other cashier as someone claiming to be manager comes crashing through on a boar. 

Whoever the manager is, is bringing along colossal sand waves, which promise to crush every single person lingering around. Yachiru wakes him mere moments before the wave crushes him. Her sneeze echoes through the apartment, accompanied with a sniffle and exaggerated blow. 

“Don't blame me for sharing germs,” he warns. “You're the one that insists on snuggling.” 

Yachiru sniffles again and rubs her nose against the couch arm. “Mister Hana would help us. I think he enjoys helping people.” 

Hanataro would apologize to pedestrians for the light changing too soon. Were there an apocalypse, he would be the one gathering survivors and insisting that working together is the solution. He would be concerned upon realizing everyone would much rather focus on murdering. 

“Yeah, he enjoys caring for other people,” he agrees. “Hanataro chose to become a teacher for that reason. Go use the tissues rather than the furniture. I'd rather scrub vomit than dry boogers.”

“Everyone thinks its boogers,” she sing-songs. “But its snot.” 

Its an exhausted gross joke, but he still gives her the dry laugh and hair tussle shes come to expect. 

Whatever renewed energy lunch and sleep delivered, it dissolves between cartoons. Yachiru alternates between snoring and sneezing, usually into his face. Kenpachi gives up on dodging and forces his neck to take the disgusting blows as he drifts over cartoon voices and the door creaking open. Her brave immune system won't match up against his illness, especially when she insists on rolling around the germ infested apartment and snuggling with him. 

Hanataros iron-clad immune system surely won't be able to stand up against them. Yachiru gives a final sneeze and burrows into his shoulder, managing to avoid the drying snot. 

“Look, I never learned anything on addressing feelings, kid,” he warns. “I could either drink, fight, or fuck the feelings away. You're better than the other little monsters. You deserve better than growing into a drinking, fighting, and fucking mess. I shove books and toys under my bed and call that cleaning. Our dinner is sometimes takeout but I make you eat some fruit or vegetables with it and just water to drink. I am going to make you learn how to read even if you hate me.” 

Drinking, fighting, and fucking is no longer an option. Instead, he has someone helping him along, now stumbling through the door with his arms weighed down by groceries. 

His tone remains chipper. “I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long. A new cashier was working and couldn't figure a problem with the register. I wound up helping until a veteran cashier could show up. How are you feeling?” 

“I have snot on my neck and Yachiru's probably caught whatever this is. I'm getting better though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being such dear readers, subscribers, and people. I have undergone a mental, emotional, and physical roller coaster and completing this story feels like such a huge accomplishment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


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